


Gentleman Caller

by PenandDragon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Feminization, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Spanking, no actual genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenandDragon/pseuds/PenandDragon
Summary: Hong Jisoo has a secret lover.





	Gentleman Caller

 

Hong Jisoo has a secret lover.

He knows his bandmates have realised by now that he’s dating. He can read it in the downturned quirk of Seungcheol’s lips when he catches Jisoo smiling at his phone for a second too long, or in the _look_ Jihoon exchanges with him when he says he can’t sleep and needs to step out for a while. The rest of the members are probably just surprised that Jisoo has it in him. They do not know the identity of Jisoo’s mystery date nor will he ever tell them: that was the deal. The thought of confrontation makes his heart race and his temples break out in cold sweat. This is his secret. She belongs to _him_.

“Be careful.” Seungcheol had warned him on his way out the door. It went without saying what could happen if he was caught. It makes his stomach flip to think what would happen if he was caught with _her_.

But the fear is never enough for him break it off. He needs her tonight. Needs to feel her lips on his and bury his nose in her soft, perfumed hair. Jisoo wishes he could bottle that scent. He needs to remember that she’s real.

_Don’t keep me waiting, Mr. Hong._

Jisoo’s heart still pounds with excitement as he waits outside her door although they’ve done this countless times by now. He straightens his jacket and adjusts the flowers in his hands. She always smiles so widely when she sees what he has brought her. He likes the feeling that he can spend money on her, make her shine, even if it’s just for him. Jisoo fantasises about taking her outside of this hotel room. How proud he would be to have this woman on his arm, to take her out to dinner, have everyone stare at them because she is so so beautiful and she only has eyes for Jisoo.

“Hey, handsome.”

Jisoo feels the flush crawl up his neck. He doesn’t think anything will ever prepare him for opening the door to her, every time he sees her is like the first time and every time she takes his breath away.

“Hi, honey.”

Tonight her hair is long and brown and loose, just the way Jisoo likes it. Her make-up is minimal (she doesn’t need a lot, or any really, to look pretty), but her cheeks have a dewy flush and the rouge on her lips is enough to mark him up with. She’s in pink.

“You’re wearing the dress I bought you.” Jisoo says, swallowing thickly as he steps inside the room, the door closing behind him with a click.

“Do you like it?” She takes the flowers from him and does a small twirl, smoothing the sleek, clingy material so it highlights her slim frame. It’s more of a slip than a dress, really. Jisoo remembers the panic bubbling inside of him when he had ordered it, browser private and looking over his shoulder constantly for fear his bandmates, as if he were watching obscene porn instead of purchasing lingerie. The porn would probably have been easier to explain.

“It’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He finds himself stammering when she winds her arms around his neck and presses herself up against him for the kiss. His hands find tentative purchase on her hips and then he’s sinking into her, squeezing her tight as he groans into her mouth.

Her embrace always makes Jisoo feel like a sailor being welcomed back to land after months at sea. Jisoo thinks it must be the American in him that shapes his views on her sometimes, the part of him with an in-built yearning for a man named Joshua coming home after a long day in the office to his suburban home and his suburban wife. She calls herself Hani sometimes but Jisoo always thinks of her as his Honey. She’s a real lady. She makes him feel boyish and he always forgets what to do with his hands when he’s around her. He has always liked to think of himself as a gentleman and he does his best to conduct himself in a gentlemanly manner around her. That’s why he makes sure he always looks the part too. His hair is always perfectly coiffed and he dresses smartly, in dark suit jackets, cufflinks, dress pants. He knows she likes the scent of his smoky aftershave so he applies it to his neck and dabs it behind his ears, the places she likes to nip red kisses onto.

It’s no wonder his bandmates have figured him out.

“You’re keen tonight.” She remarks, breathlessly, looking free and dangerous and utterly uninhibited as she bounces back on the bed and kicks her heeled feet up in the air. They both like it when she keeps her heels on. He is quick to crawl in after her on his hands and knees, sinking into the mattress and hovering over her uncertainly.

“I missed you.” He says, meaning it. Sometimes Jisoo thinks the only time he can be honest is when he’s with her.

“I missed you too.” She says, eyes gentling. A hand on the back of Jisoo’s neck guides his lips towards hers until they’re both sighing softly into the kiss. She fits so perfectly against his body that Jisoo feels as if a part of him has been lost this whole time, wonders if the two of them could stay like this forever if he just concentrated hard enough.

He gasps when he feels her cup him through his pants, pulling back to see that teasing quirk on her red lips. His honey can be so _filthy_. His cock gives an answering jump and he knows she’s felt it, giving him a mischievous little grin when she notices his scandalised expression.

“Don’t blame me. You kept me waiting.” She breathes, narrowing her eyes in an accusatory stare even as she continues to palm his growing erection, fingers curling in a _squeeze_ that makes him hiss.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologises, voice high, kneeling before her like a beggar. “Work kept me busy. I won’t do it again.”

“Good boy.” She says, satisfied. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees and Jisoo averts his eyes politely when he sees the cleavage of the slip drop to reveal the shadow of her breasts. He allows her to manoeuvre him with her gentle hands so he’s facing away from her, letting him roll his head back against her firm shoulder, boneless. “Have you been thinking about me, Jisoo?”

“Always.”

She smirks against his ear, bringing herself up behind him and beginning to massage his shoulders. She works off his suit jacket and discards it to the floor, fingers curling possessively over his chest. He shivers as she takes a deep inhale of his scent and moves to knead his back, her long nails pressing into his skin. “You’re so tense. Want Hani to fix that?”

“Yes.” He whispers, smiling at her accent. He’s felt so touch-deprived without her that now his head is spinning, everything is finally so right and so good that he’s near drunk on the feeling. Her clever hand is already unzipping him and he shudders against her chest, can’t help bucking up to meet her. He stutters out a moan when she exposes him to the cool air. He’s already leaking.

“You really did miss me.” She murmurs into his neck and he nods, desperately, keening when she presses an open-mouthed kiss to his flushed skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Wait, honey. Stop.” He bites out, a hand around her wrist when she begins to pump his cock. She stiffens at his sudden rejection and his heart seizes. He just doesn’t want to embarrass himself by blowing his load after just a few strokes from his lover like this. Not when he desperately wants to make their nights together special. “Sorry, just. Give me a minute.”

She says nothing. He feels the departure of her warmth from his back and immediately mourns the loss of touch. Idiot. She’s probably wondering why she’s wasting her time on such a clumsy, inexperienced kid like Jisoo.

He turns to find her lounging back on the pillows, her body spread out and just daring him to touch her. She has lifted up her slip slightly to reveal that she’s wearing a pink garterskirt which preserves her modesty. Her long, smooth legs are adorned with sheer thigh-high hose which lead down to the black stripper heels. She surveys him almost lazily from under her lashes, weighing him up, a lioness in the savannah just waiting to be impressed. It makes Jisoo thirst to go out and commit some heroic deed, to show a pretty girl like her that he’s worth her time. He wants to climb on top of her but holds back, just, has to play the game correctly even when she’s the one deciding the rules.

“Well?” She raises a haughty eyebrow at him.

“Well, what?” He tries to counter but his voice cracks a little. He must look ridiculous, in just his shirt and boxers, wet cock hanging out.

“You told me to stop.” She says, as if Jisoo is particularly slow. Jisoo is supposed to be calm and courteous but she knows exactly how to raise his hackles. “So I’ve stopped. Want to watch television instead? Read a book?”

Jisoo considers the state of play.

He could beg for her forgiveness. She likes to make him beg, kiss her heels and wait for her to take mercy on him. But there’s something different in the way she’s looking at him now. Something that stirs a kind of dormant hunger in Jisoo’s belly. She has her chin jut out, looking down on him like some spoilt princess. So Jisoo grabs her by the ankle.

“I want you.” Jisoo uses her surprise to his advantage, surging forward and pinning her between himself and the mattress. Her legs open around his waist and there’s a quiver in her thighs as she squeezes against him. It wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do, but she has her lips on his before Jisoo has time to fret about it.

“I could get used to you like this.” She says when they break apart, and he knows she’s teasing him, but it makes his heart swell. “My manly man.”

“I want to take care of you too.” He says, feeling brave for once in his life.

“Need you, Jisoo.” She relaxes back against the pillows, pliant for him. “Make your Hani feel good.”

He ducks to mouth at the lace covering her flat breasts before tugging the straps of her slip down, exposing her chest. Beautiful. Her nipples are sensitive, pebbling with just a few sweeps of Jisoo’s tongue. Jisoo takes the time to tease her, his teeth scraping ever so gently against the hardened peaks until she keens, feet kicking the bedsheets. Coquettishly, she lifts her knees up to her chest and begins to part her legs. Jisoo keeps his eyes trained on hers.

“Not yet.” He says, pressing a quick kiss to her smooth calve but pressing her thighs back together firmly. “Turn over for me?”

She complies, rolling over onto her belly and looking over her shoulder with her red smile when she hears the hitch in his breath. The lace of her garterskirt has risen up to reveal the curve of her cheeks, flushed like twin peaches. He can’t hold back anymore. He buries his face against her ass, nosing the thong, loving the texture of the swirls and lace. He grows bolder. Licks a long, wet line along the thin strip of fabric separating his tongue from her bare crack.

She mewls her response and presses her ass upwards for more, presenting herself to him. At first, in one of their earliest trysts, she had asked him to spank her, call her every dirty name under the sun. Jisoo hadn’t wanted to treat her that way, not when she was his queen and he wished to serve her all night long. But the memory persists and so he delivers, letting his hand fall against her soft skin with a ringing slap.

“ _Jisoo_!”

He can’t believe he just did that. Can’t believe _he_ shocked _her_. There’s a red imprint from where he had smacked her blossoming across her skin. She tosses him an indignant look, long hair falling into her eyes, angry and excited both at once. “Do it again.” It’s a challenge. “Harder.”

He presses one hand over the back of her neck, keeping her cheek pressed against the pillow and the rest of her body raised high for him hit her with another resounding smack, watching in awe at the way her ass gives a little _jiggle_. “Fuck.” Gentlemen don’t swear. Jisoo just swore.

She yelps as he yanks down her thong to reveal her pink entrance, puckered and waiting for him. Jisoo is undone.

“Honey, can I put it in?” He asks, voice thin with restraint.

“Okay.” Her eyes darken and she lets her cheek fall against the pillow. “Make me yours, Jisoo.”

She helps him ruck down her thong, kicking it off, heels planted on either side of the bed. He leaves the slip and garterskirt on her. Jisoo works himself out of his boxers, fingers shaking as he pulls the condom on, until he’s lining his tip against her.

She’s ready for him. She always is.

He loves the feeling of slowly pressing into her, opening her up inch-by-inch with his cock as she squirms against him, begging him to _hurry_. Her tight heat is like a warm glove as he buries himself to the hilt and he pauses so she can adjust to the stretch of him inside of her. She always takes him so well. He rests his cheek against her soft shoulder as he begins to pump into her, moaning at how right it feels for them to be connected like this again. He pulls out all the way and rocks back in with a jut of his hips, quickening the pace until she’s purring her approval.

 “That’s it, Jisoo.” She pants, pure sin, bouncing back to meet his cock. “Fuck me, fuck me so hard I’ll be feeling you all week.”

“Dirty girl.” He admonishes. He gives her ass cheek another light slap for her filth and grips her hips tighter, fingers slipping in the silk of her dress. He reaches one hand under the material to grope her chest, pinching a hard little nipple. If the trembling of her thighs is anything to go by then she isn’t going to last long. He wonders how long he’ll be able to ride this out.

“Let me see your face.” She demands, twisting her neck around to look at him, hair plastered to her face and red lips parted. He gives her a hungry kiss with too much teeth as he pulls out and handles her onto her back, slipping out of her twice in his haste to thrust back inside.

She gives a pleased sigh once he enters her again. Jisoo drinks in the sight of her, reminds himself that this is really happening, that he’s making love to his perfect woman. Her long hair is splayed out across the pillow and her eyes are scrunched tight, eyebrows arched, pleasure blossoming across her face. Her lips fall open to gasp little moans and sobs as he finds that sweet spot, worshipping that little bundle of nerves that has her crying out his name. Her fingers are tangled so tightly in his hair but Jisoo doesn’t mind, this just tells him that he’s giving it to her the way she deserves. He raises her hips and the press of her heels in the small of his back draw him deeper into her. He can feel his own orgasm edging close but he needs to make sure she comes first. He was raised right, after all.

“Who do you belong to?” She whispers, voice dangerously low as she bucks her hips up to match his erratic pace. So close now.

“-Hani.” Jisoo gasps automatically, eyes falling closed, the name bubbling out of him like a charm before he can stopper it. “Hani, han, han- _Jeonghan_.”

It’s always the climax that spoils it.

Jeonghan moans like a man when his orgasm is torn out of him and Jisoo’s stomach flips when he feels the first spurt of warm come coat his abdomen, Jeonghan’s dick pressed against him. “ _Yes_. Jisoo, yes.” Jisoo empties himself into Jeonghan and feels the thin material holding their world together collapsing.

When he opens his eyes, she’s gone.

Jisoo rolls back onto the mattress and stares up at the ceiling. He is hyper-aware of the rapidly cooling come on his belly and who it belongs to. The cheap hotel room smells of sex and perfumed hair.

“Fuck me.” Jeonghan says throatily, seemingly having decided there’s no point in keeping up pretences. Jisoo can’t help but feel short-changed by this. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. “Although I guess you just did.”

_Did not_ , Jisoo thinks childishly.

Jeonghan reaches to curl an arm over Jisoo’s chest but Jisoo shrugs him off, sensing Jeonghan’s body grow tense by his side. He can feel eyes narrowing, scrutinizing him. Jisoo always feels like he’s walking on eggshells with Jeonghan. It’s nothing like the easy acceptance of when he’s with her, where he feels as if they could disappear into one another and forget about everything else. Lately he can feel Jeonghan growing restless with the arrangement and that frightens him. Jeonghan demands Jisoo look at him and give him answers he doesn’t have, answers that could break The Deal, the one he’d fought so hard to stick to. He can’t stand the thought of shattering everything.

“I can see the shadow on your lip.” Jisoo says instead, voice clipped.

“Perceptive.” Jeonghan rolls his head to stare at Jisoo’s terse profile, blinking his eyes demurely. “Did you notice my dick too?”

Jisoo flinches. His fingers curl tight in the sheets he has brought up high on his chest. “It’s _supposed_ to be an illusion.”

He hears Jeonghan’s sigh beside him. They’ve had this argument before. Jisoo had thought it had been resolved after _that_ time. He still gets bitter when he remembers it. Jeonghan had been a vision that night, in a dark lace bralette and high-waisted garterbelt which accentuated a feminine curve to his hips. Jisoo had been in heaven with her crawling all over him until he felt it; hair rubbing against his legs, hidden under Jeonghan’s arms, the lightest graze of stubble on his cheek when they kissed. Jisoo had never agreed to experiment. He hated it when Jeonghan broke the rules. Threw it all back in his face. _You know I am a man, right? Right, Mr. Hong?_ He can’t help but resent how Jeonghan can revert between himself and her so fluidly.

“Do you understand the lengths I go to wax my entire body for you? Girls can have body hair too, you know.” Jeonghan grazes his knuckles against the side of Jisoo’s cheek. Jisoo closes his eyes and shudders because Jeonghan’s hand is big and warm and the hard plastic of his nails tickles. “You’re such an old-fashioned gentleman.”

It hurts Jisoo’s throat to even swallow so he doesn’t dare respond. Jisoo is in love with Jeonghan. Jisoo is in love with the Jeonghan that gives him everything, can be everything he wants, everything he has ever fantasised about in the dark recesses of his mind, rolled into one person. He can just never be with _Jeonghan_.  

 “Maybe I should dump you, Hong Jisoo.” Jeonghan wonders to the ceiling fan. He can be so cruel.

“Please don’t.” Jisoo whispers, voice cracking.

Jeonghan rolls onto his side and his arms are pressing so there’s the slightest allusion of cleavage and for a moment he’s her again, leaning over to ghost the softest kiss over Jisoo’s forehead. “You’re hopeless.” She whispers, still so fond. “I love you.”

Jisoo isn’t sure who says it so he stays silent. His lover turns their back to him and Jisoo is lost again.

In the aftermath of their trysts, Jisoo always feels ill. He continues to feel ill until he has Jeonghan in his arms again, chanting his name like a spell, smudging red lipstick stains along his jaw. This is how it always goes.

Disappointment hangs heavy in the air and Jisoo knows his bandmates will be wondering why he’s in a rotten mood tomorrow. They never suspect Jeonghan. Jeonghan will greet Jisoo at breakfast with his usual open smile, inquire how everyone slept, joke with the kids, share easy humour with Seungcheol and noone will be any the wiser. Jeonghan isn’t like Jisoo. Jeonghan has always been a great pretender.

Maybe in another world Jeonghan would be the girl Jisoo took home to meet his parents.

Jisoo listens to Jeonghan’s breathing and thinks about all the things he will never say aloud, wonders if he’ll gather the courage to do it next time. Knows he won’t. Saying words means making them real.

_Truth and illusion, Jisoo; you don’t know the difference_.

**Author's Note:**

> downer ending oh shit


End file.
